Killian Jones II
by x goodbye is bittersweet x
Summary: He'd lost everyone important to him. Everyone he'd ever cared about. (these are all really short, but that's the point)
1. i Liam

**The whole purpose of this series is that each chapter is short, and not necessarily amazingly written. They are supposed to be simple.**

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i. Liam Jones

When Liam Jones' heart stopped, when his lungs had their last taste of air, and his lips let the last weak breath fall past, Killian Jones felt numb.

No, he felt-

..numb. Numb was the only word for it. Suddenly he couldn't breathe either, suddenly it seemed colours turned to grey and he couldn't hear anything other than his own heartbeat. The heartbeat he wished would stop so he could join his brother. It was that moment that he realised he was alone. Even with the crew, even with everyone he knew, he was completely and utterly alone. No family, nothing, no-one. He felt like a lost child in a busy street, trying to find someone they know. He felt like he was climbing up this large rock wall, and he'd lost his footing.

He was tumbling down

Down

Down.

He'd hit the bottom.

The sweet, sweet bottom.

The rock cut through his skin, it scraped his hands, bruised his knees, pain exploded through his body.

But at least now he felt something, right?


	2. ii Milah

ii. Milah

When Milah crumpled to the floor, he lost everything all over again.

He'd been so _stupid,_ so so stupid. How could he have thought the Crocodile wouldn't do anything? How could he have let his guard down?

The blue of her eyes was imprinted into his mind, not even the alcohol could remove them. The curve of her smiling lips ghosted against his each time he allowed himself to think of her. Killian Jones had been broken again, he vowed to never let anyone in again. Not like that. Not anyone. Not ever.

He would never be that stupid.

When Milah crumpled to the floor, his heart turned to cold, grey stone.

When Milah crumpled to the floor, he became a villain.


	3. iii Brennan

iii. Brennan

Brennan's death made him feel... powerful. No - he regretted it.

No, he -

No.

Brennan's death made his mind an even more confusing battle against itself. Because he felt powerful, he felt calm. His father deserved it. But, he didn't. He felt guilty, he regretted it more than anything. He'd left a boy an orphan. That boy would grow up like him: alone, confused, angry. Only, that boy wouldn't have the anchor of his brother.

Killian had. Killian had had Liam, he'd had the strong-willed, calm mind of his brother to guide him through the storms of life.

This boy had nobody.

Because of him.

Because he'd been impulsive.

How was he supposed to react? Had he supposed to have been happy that his father had named that lad after his deceased brother, after the only family he'd known?

Brennan's death had made him feel more internally confused than ever before.


	4. iv Crowley

**This next one is from an RP Forum - The Assimilation Trials. Every entry from now on, will not be canon; it will either be from the same forum, or private rps. Don't like, don't read.**

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iv. Crowley

He'd thought Crowley had been dead. He might as well have been. Because he didn't remember anymore. Something had happened to his closest friend, he didn't remember anything. Killian was lost all over again. It seemed life didn't like him having connections with anyone.

Crowley had been the first to his side in so many situations. Crowley had been his own personal diary, everything that had bothered him, Crowley knew about.

But Crowley had loved him, and Killian had felt so damn _bad_ , because he didn't like him back, not like that. His heart had remained with his Swan.

Crowley might as well have been dead. He told Killian to leave him alone, he told Killian he didn't want him there, he had tried to kill Killian himself. Killian didn't know why he stayed.

Maybe because part of him saw himself.

Maybe because he needed someone to hate him more than he hated himself.

Crowley might as well have been dead, the old Crowley was. The new Crowley had hated him at first, and then again with split personas.

He might as well have been dead.


	5. v Hazel

**Every entry from now on, will not be canon; it will either be from the Assimilation Trials forum, or private rps. Don't like, don't read.**

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v. Hazel

Hazel had been the worst. Hazel's death had been at his own hand, just as he'd finally forgiven himself for everything.

It was an accident. It was an accident. He didn't mean to. It was an accident.

He'd swung around, the sword had been in his hand, she'd been there, he hadn't meant to. It was too quick. The blood appeared too quickly. He'd held her. He'd held her as the life faded from her body. He'd held her until Crowley had found him. Crowley had told him it wasn't his fault, it was okay.

Hazel's death had caused him to drink again. He'd been sober for weeks, it was his achievement. But he'd needed a way to forget her. He'd needed a way to forget the feel of the blood on his hand, the weight of the sword in his hand. He'd needed to forget the way she crumpled to the ground.

 _Just like Milah had._

Hazel's death had been the worst, not because he'd known her- he hadn't - but because her killing had reminded him of who he once was, who he _still_ was...

 _Captain Hook._


	6. vi Emma

**Every entry from now on, will not be canon; it will either be from the Assimilation Trials forum, or private rps. Don't like, don't read.**

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vi. Emma

No pain he had ever felt compared to the pain he felt when his Swan left.

The gunshot rang in his ears. He didn't turn back. He'd promised not to. She'd made him promise not to. She'd told him it would be too hard for him. He shouldn't have found her, he wasn't supposed to, she wanted to go without a goodbye because she knew it would be less painful.

The gunshot rang in his ears.

He wasn't supposed to find her. She wanted to leave, she knew what it would do to him, to Henry. The gunshot rang in his ears.

The first thing he felt was despair, as he crumbled against the wall and cried. Killian Jones did not cry. Well, now he did.

The second thing he felt was...nothing. His heart had been ripped out and crushed. Not literally, though maybe he would have preferred that. He spent the majority of the time drunk, but not even the rum could taint her memory. It couldn't erase the green of her eyes, the white of her teeth, the red of her lips and the way her body fit his so well.

The gunshot rang in his ears.

He'd smashed glasses, he'd punched walls, he'd kicked tables, stormed the empty halls of their home. _His_ home now. She was gone. His Swan, his light, his _saviour_ , was dead, gone. She wasn't here to stop him from becoming this self-destructible ghost of a man.

"I'm fine,"

 _The gunshot rang in his ears._


End file.
